Chapter 148

Katniss

It only took a few hours for us to arrive back home. After my mother passed, we were told that she had requested to be moved back to 12 with us -- to be buried with my sister and father, reunited at last. Although both the bodies of my sister and father were never really identified, I like to think that they rest in the meadow as well. 

Funerals have never been grand events in our district. Countless people died every day, there was no time, resources, or money to plan them. If anything, remaining family members and friends would gather with flowers and words of remembrance or comfort. This is what my mother would have wanted anyways, I know. 

My mother kept to herself often. Other than her patients, I'm not sure who she talked to. I feel guilty knowing that my mother was likely alone in the Capitol. I kick myself for not going to visit her more but we both knew that the presence of the other reminded us of our ever painful past. I tell myself it was better this way. 

Still, I ask Haymitch and Effie to accompany me and my family to my mother's final resting place in the meadow, underneath a beautiful willow tree. Peeta holds my hand the whole way over and Haymitch entertains the kids, swinging them around and picking them up onto his back. He makes them laugh and I'm grateful for it. Effie is sure to supply the most beautiful bouquet of flowers she can find on such short notice. 

The mood is light as we walk but there's no arguing the sorrow in the air that we all feel. It's never fun attending a funeral, especially not if it's a loved one's. Peeta reminds me that we're here to celebrate her life -- her long life at that. I know it's true and I know that she lived far longer than she would have if things were the same as they were when Snow was still in power. But it doesn't make the sting of losing your last childhood family member hurt any less. 

"I love you," Peeta whispers to me as we come up on the clearing before the meadow. I squeeze his hand three times back in reply. It's times like this that I'm so thankful for him. He knows me better than anyone on this Earth, though Willow certainly thinks that title belongs to her. I watch her skip in circles around her uncle Haymitch. She's such a curious girl, filled with so much life, wonder, and joy. She looks so much like me but she marks no resemblance of my childhood self. She's everything I wasn't and I'm forever thankful for it. I'm thankful that she gets to grow up in a world that encourages joy rather than stifling it like a candle flame. She doesn't have to worry. She doesn't have to fear. And that is all I could ever want for my children. 

We spread the flowers on my mother's grave and each say our soft goodbyes. At home, Peeta cooks a grand meal of my mother's favorite broccoli beef stew and fresh bread. Effie brings her finest wine, Haymitch chocolates for the kids, and we dine together as a family. In the warm kitchen light, surrounding by soft laughter from my loved ones, I feel content. These people before me, they're truly the only ones who matter. My family. Everything I hold dear sits in this room and despite the circumstances of today, I am happy. 

When the wine is gone and the fireplace dies out, our guests leave and we put the kids to bed. I immediately fall sleepily into Peeta's arms and close my eyes. 

"How are you holding up?" he asks, gently braiding strands of my hair. 

I turn to look at him and put my hand on his face, taking in his sparkling blue eyes and soft jawline.

"I'm okay," I whisper. "Sad but okay. I'm glad to have you and the kids. . .And Haymitch and Effie too I suppose."

He laughs and pulls me closer, the warmth of his body radiating off of him. 

"I love you," he says. 

I kiss his cheek and say, "I love you too. So much." 

We fall asleep in each other's arms but sleep is not peaceful tonight. 

Prim's voice calls out to me, "Katniss! Katniss, please!" 

I try to run to her, stumbling over the dark of the night. I can't find her. She cries out again but I can't grasp where her voice is coming from.

"Prim!" I cry. My sister. My sister is here. She needs me. Where is she? 

My legs feel like gelatin as I run. Slower, slower, slower, until I fall to my knees. I can't move but she still cries out. I have to get to her but where? 

"Katniss, I'm here!" 

I turn my head toward the direction of her voice and she's there, standing in front of me. Upon first glance, she looks radiant. Her golden hair falls in ringlets down her back. Her blue eyes seem to glow in the dark and her white lace dress appears angelic. She's just about to reach out and touch my face when the bomb goes off. 

I scream and choke on the ash that pours from the sky like rain. When the smoke clears, I expect to see nothing but rubble. But Prim stands before me still -- only this time she is not beautiful. She is a flaming corpse. Her skin is black as charcoal, and melted in places. Her golden hair is all but gone, her dress in rags. The most haunting part of it all, her blue eyes are missing entirely. She looks as though she's crumbling before me and I scream. I scream and choke on ash and scream again. Her hand grazes my cheek, as if trying to comfort me like she always used to, but her touch burns like hot coals. 

"Katniss," her raspy, smoke induced voice calls out to me. "Don't forget about me. You're forgetting about me."

"No," I choke. "No, I'd never forget about you." 

"Don't forget about me," she pleads. Every time she speaks, another part of her crumbles to the ground. I try to get her to stop, to preserve the last bit of her still with me but she doesn't stop. 

"Don't forget," she repeats, over and over again. I sob, trying to tell her that I won't forget, that I haven't forgotten, but the smoke fills my lungs and I'm unable to speak. I watch her crumble to nothing before me. 

I wake up choking. The smoke is gone. Prim is gone. The fire has been put out. I am in my own bedroom and Peeta's protective arms wrap around me as soon as I am able to sit up in bed. 

"Hey, hey," he whispers, gently, trying to calm me down. "It's okay, Katniss. You had a nightmare. Everything's okay, I'm here."

"I- I-" I stammer, tears spilling over my eyes. "It was Prim."

He sighs, knowing immediately that my dreams of Prim are always the worst ones. I have nightmares often but anything related to my sister cuts deeper than anything else could. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, pushing a lock of my hair away from my forehead covered in my sweat. 

"No," I whisper. "I just need to be alone for a little while." 

He nods and I push myself out of bed. The sun is beginning to rise so I stumble downstairs to slip on my jacket and boots and head outside. The fresh morning air feels like a blessing in my lungs and mouth that still tastes like the smoke and ash that was never really there. I pull my hair back and my jacket hood over my head and begin to make my way over to the meadow. 

I was just here yesterday but it feels like a different world. The flowers we left on my mother's grave, while wilted some, still sit perfectly atop the fresh dirt. I move past it and find a quiet place in the weeds and wildflowers past the clearing. I sit down, the grasses around me nearly stretching taller than my head. 

Pulling my knees close to my chest, I force myself to close my eyes and take deep breaths. As I sit in silence, my emotions overtake me and I begin to cry. Not cry, sob. Bawl. Weep. I cry until there are no tears left in me and then I begin to speak. 

"Prim, are you here?" I whisper. "I like to think you are. This is where I go to find you. To feel you. To remember you."

"The flowers, they make me think of you the most. So delicate and beautiful. But you weren't delicate, where you? Not really. I wanted to think you were. I wanted to think that you were always my baby sister, who cried when the wildflowers I brought home wilted or you accidentally stepped on a bug on our way to school. I wanted to think that you would stay little forever. Small and fragile, so I could be the one to protect you. But that's just not how things work is it?"

I sigh and rub my eyes, itchy from the pollen in the flowers I sit in. "The truth is, you were so brave. So strong. Far stronger than I ever was. Sometimes I want to be angry about it. Angry that you risked your life. Angry that you were in the Capitol that day in the first place. Angry that you were so good and so compassionate that you died trying to help strangers. I've always told myself that you and I were so different. I loved that we were different because you were always better than me, safer than me. But in the end, we really were so similar."

"Prim, not a day has gone by that I don't think of you. Every day I think of you. Every day I wish that you were still here. I need you here. It's not fair that you and mom and dad are all together. And if not together, at least you don't have to live with the pain of being without each other here. I wish so much that it were me, Prim, not you. I tried to protect you. My baby sister. I tried. I did everything I could for it to be me instead. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Prim." 

The tears begin to fall again and I know I have nothing else to say. I shift onto my back and close my eyes. I try to image that she's here next to me. The thought lulls me to sleep.

I see her standing before me again. But she's not a corpse and there is no fire. We are surrounded by flowers and blue sky. I reach out to her and a gentle smile spreads across her lips. 

"Katniss," she whispers. "It's okay. I'm here."

"Prim, I'm so sorry," I cry, pulling her close. "I need you. Please come home."

"I wish that I could," she says, still smiling peacefully. "But there's something I need you to do. There's something for you in your house that you've never seen. I need you to find it."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I need you to know that I'm okay, Katniss. I need you to find it"

I'm confused and she sees that but she won't tell me more no matter how much I ask her to. 

"I love you, Katniss. So much."

She's beginning to fade. I beg her to stay, try to hold on to the sense of peace that she brings me but in seconds, she's gone and I'm awake again. Alone in the meadow, surrounded by flowers but not my sister. 

When I get home, the place is empty. Peeta must have taken the kids over to Haymitch and Effie's for breakfast this morning. I'm sure he didn't want to worry them when they woke up without me. I make my way upstairs, planning to take a shower to try and rid myself of the lingering feeling of fire and death from my earlier nightmare. But I'm drawn to the other end of the hallway, the place I never go. We have a spare room there, filled with all of our salvaged belongings from the past. Photos, paintings, letters and documents are all piled up there and I almost never let myself see them. Today, though, I feel that I should. 

I make my way to the door and turn the knob slowly, as if a monster was behind it, ready to pounce on me. There is no monster. There is not much of anything really. I open the door to find a rather plain room. Peeta's paintings of me, of the games, of our past hang on the walls. A wooden desk sits in the middle of the room. Photos of our friends and loved ones long gone sit on its surface collecting dust. I sit at the desk, running my hand over the ashy surface and brush the dust off on my pants. 

I open the drawers to find the book Peeta and I created together years ago, honoring our past and the loved ones we lost. My collection of berries and herbs, a continuation of what my father taught me when I was young, sits untouched underneath it. I pull out a pile of papers at the bottom of the desk, sifting through them quickly. Annie's letter, wedding invitations, documents from hospitals, our baby's birth certificates. And lodged at the bottom of the pile, crumbled and torn at the edges, a letter in handwriting I have not seen in years. Cursive, round, delicate. None other than my little sister's handwriting. 

I'm confused for a moment. I don't remember ever receiving a letter from Prim. But then I see my medical file from District 13. The notes and prescriptions from my doctors. And I know that Prim never gave me this letter. She wrote it during the war and included it with my hospital records. I open it carefully, as if it's the most fragile piece of art, and begin to read.

Katniss,

If you are reading this, I'm sure that something has happened and I'm no longer with you. Today is January 28th. You are already gone, off in the Capitol to fight the war that I hope so badly will end soon. Last week we got news that you and the rest of the Star Squad were dead. Today we found out that you're still alive. I'm so glad that you're still alive. 

There's talk of Coin sending me and a few other medics into the Capitol to help there. Plutarch thinks that the war will be over soon. I want to believe him. I want to believe in a world where you and I can go back home and live the rest of our lives in peace. To finally get some normalcy after a lifetime of pain. But I'm not sure what will happen with each passing minute, let alone the rest of our lives. So I'm writing this letter to you now in case we don't get our happily ever after. 

Katniss, you have given me a life worth living. For my entire life, you've given me everything I've ever needed and worked so hard to give me everything I've wanted. You have been my biggest role model, my supporter, my best friend. My home. 

You've shown me what a real hero looks like. I told you once that I wish I looked like you and I stand by that. I always will. You mean everything to me, Katniss. And there would be no greater happiness for me than knowing that everything turned out okay for you in the end. Even if I'm not there to see it. 

I need you to know that I'm not afraid. I want to help people. That no matter what happens in the future, you were never to blame. I've made my choices, just like you've made yours. We can be angry and upset at each other all we want but in the end, I think we both did the best we can. I think dad would be proud of us. I am proud of us. 

Don't be scared to go on without me. I'm always with you, no matter what happens. It's okay to let go, Katniss. It's okay to be free. Wherever I am, I promise that I'm okay. 

I love you so much. Please don't ever forget that. 

Love always, 

Your little duck. 

I do not know when the tears began. I clutch the letter close to my heart, as if I'm breathing in the life of my sister. I sit in silence but I have not felt this close to her in so long. Though I cannot help but cry, I feel content knowing that she must be with me, or how would she have told me about this letter in my dream. 

I hear Peeta arrive home with the kids downstairs and tuck the letter back into the desk where I know it will be safe. I brush the tears from my cheeks and meet him in the kitchen. 

Worry and confusion is etched across his face when he sees me. "Are you okay?" he asks. 

I nod and pull him into my arms. "Yes," I say. "I'm okay." 

And I mean it. I am okay. Though the pain in my chest of losing my sister, one of the people I hold dearest to my heart, will never go away, I know that she'll never really leave me. That no matter what, we'll always have each other. Always. 

For the first time in my life, I feel peace. 

Hello, friends. It's been some time. I'm sure not many of you are still here on this app. Maybe none of you are. But this page came to mind today and my heart felt heavy knowing this little book and its characters I love so much never got an ending. So here it is, finally, an ending four years later. This is the ending I've always intended for Always and I'm very happy it will be out there for any lovely individual to read. 

I'm 20 years old now, headed soon for 21, and life has changed so much since we last spoke. I look back on my time here with you all and cherish it so deeply. I created so many memories here and friends who have since come and gone. I am not the same person I was when I wrote for this book last and certainly not the same person I was when I joined this account -- apparently nearly 10 years ago. That's crazy. This is crazy. But I'm so glad I could give you an ending, for whoever is still out there in this big Internet world at least or to whoever might stumble upon my work in the future. I take pride knowing that this book has grown with me through so much -- literally ages 12 to 20. And you might be happy to know that I'm still writing now. In different ways but still writing. My love for it will be eternal, I think. 

I'm so entirely grateful. Maybe we'll meet again someday. For now, know that I will never forget you or this huge chapter in my life. I'll never forget the way this sweet little book made me feel and I certainly hope my passion for writing and storytelling never dwindles. Who knows, maybe I'll have an original book of my own out there some day. Don't worry, you'll get to say you knew me first. 

I will remember these characters and these beautiful moments and memories we made together forever. Always. 

Thank you so much for listening to me all these years. 

Much love, peace, and kindness to each of you,

Morgan (aka booklover2019)